


The Taste of Blood and Wine

by quillsandinkwells



Series: The Intricacies of Living [1]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark!Kalijah, Elijah is a Feminist, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Katherine is a Badass, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Canon, The Author Regrets Nothing, but also AU, but not together - Freeform, gratuitous use of flashbacks, part of a series but also not really, power couples, some scenes of sex and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillsandinkwells/pseuds/quillsandinkwells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 500-year long story of Katherine Pierce and Elijah Mikaelson comes to a head one winter's night when she shows up at his doorstep. Alternating with flashbacks into their complex and interwoven pasts, the story of Katherine and Elijah spans centuries and continents, challenging the definition of what love, and to be in love, really means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The two of them had always been a fight.

Over the course of five hundred years, the amount of times they had interacted could be counted on one hand. They were tragic, with literally everything against them—including themselves. When one’s heart disagrees with one’s mind, it is a fierce battle, after all. They may have been a battle—two strong-willed minds, two dominant personalities, who clashed and shredded and loved—but they were something beautiful. They were a modern Hades and Persephone: the man of abject darkness, who craved a bit of the light, and the woman who had once been pure light, but now reveled in the darkness.

They were not each other’s first loves, for those ended tragically, as some first loves are bound to do. They were also not each other’s last love, for she fell for a set of brothers—whom together but resembled the man he was—perpetuating a doomed cycle, and he fell for the odd woman over the years, though none could make him forget her, as he sometimes would wish. But, in the end, they were each other’s great loves.

They were a great and terrible beauty.

It could be said that their story began five hundred and twenty years before, in England, 1492. This would be a valid opinion, after all. The first stirrings of their feelings did begin in that old castle, no matter the roadblocks presented to them. However, their story did not truly flourish until much, much, later.

It all began in the late stages of the year 2010, once again in England. They were infamous—could be called leaders, even—of a supernatural race, known around the world as some of the most powerful and deadly. He himself was second in strength only to his brother, and she was hardened after years of fighting her way to the top. For years it was he she ran from, due to quite a bit of miscommunication and misunderstandings. For years he chased her, for their game was one which would never be over whilst the both of them walked the earth.

Then, everything changed.

She needed him. It was not that she necessarily wanted to ask for his help, but she needed it desperately. He was the only being with the resources and immunity to truly help her; there was no other choice.

This is where their story begins.


	2. In Which A Deal Is Struck

**November 11, 2010**

Katherine Pierce walked up the front steps of the grand townhouse in London, England, that rainy day, her high heels clipping on the front steps. This was probably the last place on earth she wished to be, but it must be done. She needed Elijah’s assistance, and she needed it now.

He was her last resort. She had traversed the globe over the past week and a half, looking for anything and anyone who could help her get this cure. Unfortunately, the idea of a cure was more than enough to make a few witches give her a nice little aneurysm or five, and one nearly took her head off. The other three attempted to rip her organs out via a nasty little bitch of a curse, so needless to say, Katherine Pierce had abandoned the witches. After that she tried a group of old vampires who were rumored to be interested in something of this nature, but they were just plants of Klaus’s, taking out any potential competition by orders of their master; quite obviously, they were dead by the end of the day. Two of the six were older than she, but all were soft from the life of lying about in their homes, and so she dispatched of them with nothing but her hands and a pair of wooden-tipped stilettos. Her interest in the item could not be revealed to the world at large quite yet.

No, she would not come to Elijah if she were not desperate.

She raised her hand and knocked on the door, carefully tuning into the home’s noises. There was someone inside… The door opened to show a somewhat elderly man, dressed in a suit. “Yes miss?” He asked, his voice raspy after what was probably too many years of tobacco use.

“Hello! This is Mr. Mikaelson’s residence, correct?” She plowed on, knowing she was right, as she turned on the innocent charm. “My name is Elena Gilbert, I’m a friend. Is he in?” Though she detested having to play her dear, un-departed, doppelganger, Elena was a useful person to have existing, at the moment. The likelihood of being allowed admittance into Elijah’s house as herself was probably somewhere between ‘not a chance’ and ‘prepare to die’. Neither were options Katherine wanted to explore.

The butler seemed to carefully consider her for a moment, before he stepped to the side, motioning her in. Katherine stepped over the threshold, noticing she did not need an invitation. “Mr. Mikaelson is out at the moment, I am afraid.” He said. “However, he will be back within the hour. You may wait in the parlor.” From what she was able to see of the house, Katherine approved of it. Elijah appeared to favor the Edwardians in his decorating tastes, with an eye for antiques. The parlor was not cluttered, nor was it sparse, but even with the elegant design, there seemed to be something lacking from the house. There was a coldness about the place; a distinct lack of liveliness.

Katherine busied herself for half an hour or so, sipping at a cup of tea whenever she was not mentally preparing herself for what could be a nasty confrontation. Of course, she doubted Elijah would actually  _kill_  her; it was more of the fact that she was willing giving herself over to the possibility. And there was the small manner of him hunting her for the past five hundred years… Oh, hell. What was she getting herself into?

It was when she was bored enough to begin browsing the bookshelves that ‘the master’ arrived home. Katherine heard the butler inform him that, “a Miss Gilbert is in the parlor”, and mentally steeled her will. When she could hear him at the door, Katherine turned around, a smirk plastered on her pretty face. “Mystery novels, Elijah? I would have believed you to be someone who enjoyed the more predictable things in life."

He raised an eyebrow from his position by the doorway. “You are not Elena. Obviously.”

“Really? I had no idea.” She laughed that haughty laugh she had spent so many years perfecting. “I was not sure if you had a ‘no entry’ list, and it can be so useful having a doppelganger at times. Especially when mine is currently in her dingy little town, adjusting to the bloodlust.”

“Why are you here, Katerina?” If this was just to be another one of her games, Elijah was bored already. Then again, she was not idiotic enough to risk her neck for something trivial. It was…interesting to see her here, in his house. She seemed out of place, with her laughs and coy looks, among the general solitude

“It’s Katherine now.” She corrected sharply. “And maybe I just wanted to visit an old friend.”

“You and I have not been friends for many centuries.”

“Someone’s irritable.” Katherine rolled her eyes. “Anyways, you’re right. I have a proposition for you.”

"I'm listening. Though, not for very long.” Elijah crossed the room and poured himself a drink. He offered one to Katherine, but she declined.

“Considering your siblings are fanatically searching for it, I assume you have heard of the cure for vampirism.” She gestured as she spoke, continuing on when she received a nod of affirmation. “I want it. Not for myself, of course, but t—”

“You want to trade it for your freedom. I assume you wish for me to act as the go-between?” Elijah raised an eyebrow, actually intrigued. This was risky, gutsy. Not to mention the daring she possessed in even showing up here. Also, it would be nice to do something other than purchase and remodel real estate.

“You’re basically the only person who didn’t run screaming for the door—or attempt to chop my head off—by this point in my speech, you know. Of course, any contacts you have wouldn’t hurt either.”

“The mighty has fallen, I see.” He said, a smirk playing upon his mouth as she narrowed her eyes.

“I suppose you admit that I am one of the mighty, then.” Katherine seemed amused by this notion. “I did come prepared.”

“How so?”

“By definition, a partnership such as the one I am proposing is mutually beneficial. As such, I had a few of my remaining minions’ do a bit of digging, and they took the liberty of hunting down the LaHaye coven.” She gave him a feral grin, looking like the cat-that-ate-the-canary.

Elijah was impressed. The LaHaye vampires had recently offended him a great deal—really, the imbeciles should have known not to lay claim to one of his cities—and it was well known that he was searching for them. “You have my attention.”

"I assumed as much.” The lady said. “Which is why I have five of their members imprisoned at my nearest house. I hope you don’t mind that I did a bit of torture. I am dearly fond of knives, and it got the locations of five more.” Katherine smiled sweetly, as if they were talking about something sickening like…unicorns. Or babies. Or worse… Unicorn babies.

“Katerina, I do believe we have a deal.” They met in the middle and shook hands, eyes locking. Really, what did he have to lose? Niklaus would remain thoroughly in the dark until the last possible moment, just by the very nature of what they were about to do, so that was one threat eliminated. Rebekah was far too obsessed with Mystic Falls to leave anyways, and Kol was off doing god knows what with god knows who like usual. Plus, he got those pesky vampires out of the deal. There really were no drawbacks.

“I believe we do.” Oh yes, this was going to be the start of something dynamic.

**November 13, 2010**

Katherine sashayed back into her hotel room, kicking off her heels as she walked in the door. Yes, she did have a lovely house about an hour away from Elijah’s, but it was…unusable at the moment. Torture victims were always so whiny at night, and she was a woman who enjoyed her beauty sleep, thank you very much. Yes… A long soak in the bath, and maybe some of those chocolate-covered strawberries she had spotted on the room-service menu would make this evening perfect.

It had been a long day, in which she had spent the majority of the time either attempting to drag more names out of the LaHaye’s, or searching for clues as to where this infernal cure might be. Mmm… Maybe room service itself would be tasty, as well. There was nothing quite like blood right from the source, after all.

Not to mention the fact that even being around that blasted man was beginning to drive her insane. He was stubborn, sarcastic in a way that made you think twice about what he said, and just utterly frustrating. She was not entirely what it was about him that drew her in, but damn it, it was distracting, and she had a mission to complete! Maybe it was the damned elegance that seemed to come with his mere voice, or the power and Old-World charm which surrounded his presence, but there was something about Elijah that just lit her up like a bloody torch. He always had, even back then; she just had not expected it to still be there, five hundred plus years later. There was the obvious, and quite explainable, physical attraction—honestly, one would have to play fully for the other team to  _not_  be attracted to him—but occasionally there was something else. Something unidentifiable, that she had not expected; that was what drove her crazy, even after only two days.

**_September 6, 1954_ **

_Katherine maneuvered her way down the streets, shielding herself from the autumn sun with the parasol that was all the rage these days. At least these dresses—unlike those from a few decades before—allowed one to have a bit of a figure, no matter how nonsensical the accessories were. She was not entirely sure why she was going to_ his _house. Of course, she had it under good word that he was not in town, but still… This was a bad idea. She had been dead for nearly a century, and this could blow her cover. And yet, she was still going. She blamed that witch, of course, for putting thoughts of a certain person into her head once more. Maybe seeing where he lived would erase the plaguing thoughts—the what-if’s and the times that had been—from her mind. Maybe she would receive relief._

_Finally, the vampire reached her destination. It was a grand townhouse, and she had expected no less, though it appeared very…sad. There were no flowers in the small garden, and the only adornments upon the property were the house itself, and the front gate. As Katherine looked up at the place for a few minutes, she pursed her lips and sighed._

_It appeared there was to be no relief for her yet._

_Inside the townhouse, Elijah Mikaelson sat, reading over some documents. He was supposed to have been halfway to America by now, but instead postponed the meeting with Niklaus for another week. He needed to cross a few more potential locations off of the list of where the rest of their family may be hidden before meeting his brother again. Besides, the residual anger from their last meeting was too great, at this point, to consider seeing Niklaus._

_Suddenly, something caught his eye from outside the window. His house did not get many visitors, and the sight of someone—a lady, no less—standing at the front gate was puzzling to say the least. Elijah was about to step outside and see what she wanted, when he took another look at the pretty woman in the lavender dress. His undead heart nearly stopped. She was supposed to be dead. Katerina Petrova was supposed to be dead, trapped in a cave he had likely played in as a boy, and instead she was standing at his gate, tracing her gloved fingers over the stylized metal ‘M’. Frozen in shock, he watched her stand there for a few more moments before she turned and walked away._

_If he had not been entirely sure of the sight, he would have believed she had a doppelganger walking the earth. However, that woman was Katerina Petrova and none other. A doppelganger would not have shown up at his house for a random reason, much less pause. She carried herself like Katerina as well, with the haughty feline grace she never managed to lose, no matter which cover she was utilizing at the time. She should be dead, and yet, Katerina Petrova had been at his gate. He was glad she was alive, but the questions which were spurred from her appearance plagued Elijah for the days which were to come._


	3. Bleeding Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: ‘…the questions […] plagued Elijah in the days that were to come. ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief PSA: the violence and gore warning comes into play here. If you're triggered easily by this type of thing, please proceed to the italics, and you should be fine.

**November 16, 2010**

“Tell me…” Katherine paced the basement of her house, eyeing the hostages tied along the walls with disdain. “Where is the rest of your coven?” She tapped the glistening knife against her fingers as she spoke, the tip leaving little pinpricks which healed nearly as quickly as they were formed. Most of the vampires cowered against their chains, but there was one who managed to hold his ground; a younger man, most likely untouched by the scourge of life. Well, until she got to him, that is. It was a pity; the strong ones had always been her favorite. “Is no one going to speak up?”

            Silence met her once again, and she smiled a deadly smirk. Now it was time for some fun.

            She sauntered over to the brave one, her footsteps ringing on the stone floors, a death sentence thundering over the whimpers coming from the far end. Katherine tipped his chin up with her knife, meeting his hate-filled eyes with her mocking ones. “Hello, sweetie. I see someone has a bit of guts in this room.” She shot a glare at the whimpering one, causing the girl to shut up. Finally, blessed silence.

            “You’re… You’re Katherine Pierce. We haven’t offended you… Not that we know of. Why are you doing this?” The young man rasped, his voice already becoming hoarse from the lack of blood. He grimaced as Katherine slowly drew the knife across his collarbone and down his arm.

            “Your coven may not have offended me personally,” She sighed, as if this were all a game. Which, technically, it was. “However, you have overstepped your boundaries with someone whom I need something from, therefore you and your coven are now of value to me.”

            “So now you’re just a lackey for Elijah Mikaelson? The legends are a disappointment.” He scoffed.

            “If you’re trying to manipulate me, cupcake, which you are, it’s not going to work.” Katherine rolled her eyes. “And I am not any man’s lackey, thank you very much, much less _Elijah’s_.” She rewarded him for his impertinence with a stab to the abdomen, causing the young man to cry out. The girl in the corner restarted her crying again, before shutting up with a squeak after Katherine glared at her.

            “I believe someone called for me?” A voice emerged from the shadows of the room, revealing Elijah, in his usual suit, paired with a tie that matched the blood on Katherine’s hands. He surveyed the other occupants of the room. “It appears you all have the good sense to be frightened. All the better, considering none of you will be leaving this room alive.”

            “Hello, Elijah. I see you decided to join the party.” Katherine turned on her heel, leaving the knife stuck in the young man. “As you can see, I have presents.”

            He gave her a wicked grin—one she matched as they faced the…“presents”—which sent chills running down the spines of their captives. “You hold up your end of a bargain very well indeed, Katerina.”

            “I’m nearly ashamed you doubted me.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, not wanting to touch it with her bloody hands. “I lie, I cheat, but I don’t go back on my word.”

            “So I see.” Elijah nodded. He stepped forward, inspecting the other vampires. “Michael LaHaye. You favor your rebellious father; I can see the same fire in your eyes.” He addressed the one Katherine had been playing with.

            “My father was a great vampire until you killed him. He wanted to be free of you,” Michael LaHaye started, but was interrupted.

            “Your father went back on the terms of our agreement, and betrayed my trust. He knew what would happen to his family, and yet when I found him, he was cowering like a child in what was essentially a hovel. He paid the price for his crimes,” The Original stated calmly as Katherine watched on. “And his debt will be fulfilled.” With his final words, Elijah ripped the heart out of the passionate young man, much to the screams of the young woman in the corner.

            As he turned back around, the organ falling to the ground, Katherine clapped slowly. “Still dramatic, I see.”

            “Haven’t you heard? I have no sense of humor.” Elijah deadpanned, causing Katherine to roll her eyes.

            “So, who’s next?” She smirked, the torturous duo side-by-side as they singled out the next LaHaye to fall.

**_April 26, 1492_ **

**** _Katerina was running blind, and there was no other way to phrase it. It had been twenty days since she had escaped from Klaus’s castle. Twenty days since she had discovered there was a plan in place to sacrifice her body and blood on an unholy altar of stone. Twenty days since she had become aware of the demons of the night that had posed as her friends. Twenty days since she had joined them in their pagan ranks._

_Now, all she could feel was a hunger beyond any other. There was a craving within her soul: a desperate, primal yearning which could only be satiated by engorging upon human blood. After that first taste… Well, the blood called to Katerina from where she hid in the shadows, day after day, secluded from the scorching sun._

_After learning quickly that reckless indulging was just a good way to get herself killed, Katerina had begun to train herself to only take small amounts from her victims, and use the unusual mind control that now appeared to be within her range of abilities to wipe their minds afterwards. It was difficult to find victims at night and stay hidden from the hunters that appeared to watch for her kind, but she was managing. More than once she had had to pose as an… Unreputable sort of woman, in order to gain access to places frequented at night. Any respectable young lady would not be wandering around after nightfall, after all._

_Now, after twenty tormentous nights of traveling back to her homeland—to the very people who had loved and condemned her—Katerina was here. A few more steps and she would be nearing her childhood home, with the crackle of the fire, the smell of fresh bread, and her young siblings running about to and fro. Home was a place she had desperately missed. And now she wa—_

_No. That was the scent of blood. The scent of thousands upon thousands of drops of blood, pooling and damning the life she had once known. Katerina ran inside, forgetting her new speed, and the cries of anguish that subsequently followed rang throughout that calm Bulgarian night._

_Elijah stood in the woods outside Katerina’s childhood home, watching the young lady nearly crumble to the stained ground as the first bodies appeared in the front drive. He had not killed any of her family himself—he left that job to his brother—but he had been watching for her for the past few days. He was supposed to capture her, and bring her in. It was what he should do, in order to appease his brother and hopefully reunite their family. It was what needed to be done._

_And yet… Katerina’s screams tore something within him. Her cries, the tormented sobs that rippled from her former home, had shredded whatever amount of him had wished to take her back. He was powerless to anything but stand and listen to the great victory his family had accomplished: the destruction of the lovely girl known as Katerina Petrova._

**November 20, 2010**

“These are the files my semi-useless minion sent over.” Katherine set the box on Elijah’s dining room table, where they had set up shop, and began to unload. Her house was still unusable, as—though the first batch had been dealt with—more of those LaHayes had been brought in and spent their nights sniveling. Frankly, it annoyed the both of them, and disrupted their concentration to have to tell the vampires to shut up. Ergo, Elijah’s house was employed as headquarters.

“The incessant wolf you keep whining about? Or have you _not_ fallen so far as to only have one to do your bidding?” Elijah raised an eyebrow, entirely self-satisfied when she glared at him. Not many managed to visibly disturb the Great Katherine Pierce, after all.

“The wolf is good for no more than weaseling information about the Salvatore circle from Lockwood whilst in bed. No, these came from a few witches I still have in my employment. They’re all the information out there about the cure.” She shrugged, before separating the pile into two stacks. “Well, that’s what that pile is, anyway. This pile, on the other hand, is a bit different.”

“You have personal files on my family and those in our employment?” Elijah picked up Klaus’s file, as it was the thickest of the bunch. “Impressive. Though, mine seems to be missing.”

“Yes, I’m very good. And you didn’t think I would let you have access to your own file, did you? Give a girl some credit.” Katherine rolled her eyes, glad she left the other half of her collection back in the vault. She could not have Elijah knowing _all_ of her secrets. “The important information is in Kol and Rebekah’s files. Apparently your sister found her way into the bedchambers of one of The Five—”

Elijah cut her off. “Yes, some brute named Alexander, I believe. He was one of my sister’s less savory companions.”

“And here I was, thinking she just enjoyed my leftovers.” The lady smirked, delighting in the irritated look Elijah gave her. “Kol, on the other hand, appears to be fairly involved with this cure. Seems he ran with more than a few witches over the years who were knowledgeable…”

“Kol never stuck especially close to the rest of us, and due to the amount of rows he and Niklaus have gotten into over the years, it was probably for the best.” Elijah shed his suit jacket before picking up a few of the papers. “He would pop in every few years to wreak some havoc, but other than that, I do not know much of the specifics of his affairs. Do you have any definite information on who he ran with? I may be able to identify a few names.”

“I have a small army digging for more. Though, you could just, I don’t know, call your brother. I hear he’s been un-daggered for quite some time now. Maybe he would be interested enough in pissing off Klaus to give us what we need.” Katherine took a sip from her glass of wine.

Elijah flipped through his papers, before shaking his head. “If your information is correct,”

“Which it is.”

“It would not be a good idea to approach my brother on this.”

“And why?” Katherine crossed to the other side of the table to look over Elijah’s shoulder.

“The cure apparently involves an immortal being by the name of Silas. If there is one name upon this earth which will turn my brother away, it is that one; he has briefly spoken to me of this immortal before, and though I do not know the particulars, I can assure you Kol will not react well.” He stated grimly. “This just became infinitely more complicated.”


	4. Something In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: “…This just became infinitely more complicated.”

**_December 24, 1792_ **

_It truly was a magical night. The grand event put on by the great Tsarina, Catherine of Russia, was unlike any other. The musicians were flawless, the room decorated impeccably, and it was as if all of the nobles of Saint Petersburg had come to court for the Christmas masquerade. Katherine—or Elisaveta Radomira, as she had been going by—compelled herself into the courts of the Tsarina nearly four months previous, having fled the French court after King Louis XVI and his family were taken into custody by the rebels. No amount of vampirism could save her from the guillotine, after all._

_Now, here she was, at the beck and call of one of the most influential women she had ever met, and Katherine was treating this as a learning experience. It was not often that she admired_ humans _, but to not learn from the Empress of one of the greatest realms the world had ever seen would be very foolish, indeed. The only real downside was that it was damn cold all of the time; however, after a five-year stint traipsing around the southern reaches of the Ottoman Empire, Katherine was fine with the climate change. While Egypt and Arabia were lovely places, it was quite hot down there. Besides, headscarves were not particularly her thing._

_Yes, Russia really was quite good for her, and the parties were lovely. She had been sent out to dance and mingle among the nobles present, the skirts of her gown swirling as she was passed from partner to partner, the mask over her eyes doing little to contain the hint of a smile she allowed herself. Katherine was just happy those horrendous panniers had gone out of style, for they had made dancing nearly impossible at large events, not to mention how ridiculous they appeared._

_As the music melted into a waltz, Katherine found herself swept away by a new partner—one who had not asked her to dance. He looked familiar behind his mask, as if someone she had known once in her dreams. He was as handsome as she was beautiful, which she approved of. And…he was not of the Tsarina’s courts. He was most certainly foreign, for she had kept track of the regular nobles within the courts. He was also an excellent dancer._

_"Do you make a habit of stealing your partners?” She asked in Russian. Earlier, Katherine had enjoyed confusing some foreign nobles by speaking to them in Bulgarian, pretending they were just incompetent with their Russian, but she decided to play nice for once._

_"I do not make a habit of it, no. However, you, my lady, were simply waiting to be stolen away.” The moment she heard_ his _voice, Katherine nearly gathered her skirts and ran. She had not been this close to him in three hundred years, and she was certain he knew who she was. But perhaps… There was a glint in his eyes—from what she could see beneath his mask, anyways—that seemed to urge her to play along. Perhaps they could simply dance in peace for one evening, hiding underneath their supposed anonymity._

_"I will have you know that I am not a prize to be won.” Then again, subtlety was never her strong suit._

_"I never said you were.” Elijah allowed his gaze to rake over her beautiful form, soaking her in. This was the closest they had been in far too long. He had seen her from across the floor, entirely surprised at her presence. Last he had heard of her, she was making her way to a sugar plantation in Brazil, though clearly that was a false trail. He personally was in Saint Petersburg for pleasure: a friend—a mortal one, at that—was marrying the daughter of a Russian noble in a week’s time, and he had been invited to the wedding. Elijah had certainly not expected to see Katerina Petrova on the dance floor, but when he did, he simply had to dance with her, snatching Katerina away from her intended partner and smoothly segueing them back into the flow of the dance. And, judging by her last comment, she was fully aware of who he was, though it was far too risky for either to_ actually _reveal themselves. That would mean they would have to deal with the consequences of this dance. No, it was better this way. “I do believe, however, that you are a woman who likes to be chased.”_

_And chased she had been, Elijah thought. They only had been engaged in this…_ game _of theirs for three centuries. All she gave him in response was the slight upturn of her mouth before they shifted into silence, following the motions of the dance._

_They twirled through the crowd, her skirts fanning, the pair of them narrowly missing the other partners with every step. In time with the music he lifted her into the air, just as the other couples on the floor were doing, her laugh a more beautiful music to his ears than what the ensemble had been performing all evening. The world had fallen away for a brief time, and they were allowed to step away from the weight of being Katherine Pierce—or whatever alias she was going by—and Elijah Mikaelson. And so they went, drunk on each other, entranced with each other, until perhaps their fourth or fifth dance set came to an end, and she pulled away, her eyes connecting with the imposing woman on the dais._

_"The Empress beckons me, and in this court, I am not my own.” Katherine offered as an excuse, though she dearly wished to not be pulled away. She stepped in closer, and he was given a whiff of her perfume before she whispered a goodnight, and disappeared into the crowd, where he did not see her again for the rest of the night._

_They were close, so close, and yet, so far._

**November 27, 2010**

Elijah checked the address against the one in his email, before giving the building an unimpressed expression. Of all places, Katerina had asked him to meet her _here_? Then again, judging by the sounds coming from the alley beside the booming establishment, it was possible she meant this as a joke.

“A salsa club, Katerina? Or did you forget our meeting?” He asked as she pulled away from her victim of the night before compelling them away, the blood on her mouth making her lipstick indiscernible. Elijah handed over his spare handkerchief, and she took it before pulling out a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick, fixing her makeup in the alley. She was a vision in black, her short dress and heels melding into the darkness of the night, making the woman herself stand out.

“You were late, and I got hungry. There are so many warm bodies around here, after all.” Katherine shrugged, breezing past Elijah. “And yes, a salsa club. Try to lighten up, will you?”

“I do not believe an establishment such as this is conducive to a business meeting.” He followed after her, catching up easily. A quick bit of compulsion later, he followed her into the club, music booming from nearly every orifice of the place.

She turned back, wild, loose, curls flipping over her shoulder, an amused expression on her pretty face.  “Did I ask you here for a business meeting? My bad.” Katherine laughed as she weaved through the crowd, tossing her hair and smirking at the sea of adoring people in the club she seemed to have accumulated. “We are here to salsa!”

Elijah rolled his eyes and compelled a table in a quiet corner from a couple which seemed to be wanting it for other things, watching as Katerina was dragged out onto the floor by partner after partner. It was easier to let her play her games rather than fight her on this; plus, it was not like he had had anything better to do. After her third or fourth dance—where he had been forced to watch her paint a pattern across the dance floor, swinging her hips and teasing her partners all in time to the fast-paced music, that sinful dress only adding to the visual—he waved down a waiter, needing a drink or three to deal with this evening. It was only a pity that he had a millennium’s worth of tolerance, or everything would have been much easier. The worst part was, she was giving him a show, and they both knew it.

When they had been there for nearly an hour, Katherine was getting fed up with Elijah’s stubbornness. She brought the man here to dance, and dance he would, damn it! It had been far too long since the last time they danced together, and if he could salsa as well as he could waltz, then she would be a very happy woman. At the moment, however, she was not. She had been showing off whenever she could feel his gaze upon her, which had been constantly. She wanted him out on the floor with her, and she was a woman who always got her way. Perhaps it was time to raise the stakes a bit…

After suffering through ten songs and as many sub-par drinks, Elijah had had enough. He shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, thankful for the decision to forgo the tie that evening, before striding across the floor to where _she_ was, finishing a nearly indecent dance with another man. “What are you doing, Katerina?” He asked, exasperated, as they quickly began to step in time to the music. Up close, she was even more ravishing; the aroma of her perfume—something dark and musky, with a touch of a light floral scent—wrapped around the pair, adding to the entrancing environment.

“I am simply enjoying the beauty of the dance.” Her expression gave nothing away as she kept in time with the fast pace.

“I seem to remember you are quite fond of dancing.” Elijah assented, which was true. She had been an avid dancer in her human days, and then of course there were the other times.

“I am, though I have always loved a good waltz.” Katherine smirked when Elijah gave her one of those exasperated-and-amused expressions. “Especially when one has a good partner.”

“So we’re reminiscing now?”

She arched an eyebrow as the song ended, and stepped back. “Did I say anything about reminiscing?” With a small smile, Katherine grabbed the nearest man and whisked him off to the next song, a slow, sultry, piece of music.

Elijah stood on the dance floor as she sashayed away from him, semi-dumbfounded. That woman was a force of nature, and even in a bloody salsa club, of all places, she managed to keep him on his toes. Readjusting his collar and sleeves, Elijah set after her, carving a pathway through the dancing crowd. With a murderous look her dance partner was sent away, and Katerina was in his arms once more. They danced in silence for a time, the music really more suited for a tango than a salsa, eyes connected in an unbreakable gaze. It was just dancing, and yet, it was…daresay he think it emotional?

The silence was finally broken by Katherine. “Do you make a habit of stealing your dance partners, _milord_?” She whispered the last part, trailing her hands down his arms as she spun out before crashing back to him, flipping her hair in a practiced move. She relished the look in Elijah’s eyes; this was playing with fire, she knew, but there… There was something about Elijah Mikaelson that drove her absolutely insane, and she could not resist the temptation.

Elijah twirled her around, her back to his chest, entrapping his Katerina. “Only when they wish to be caught.” His fingers ghosted down to her hips and back to her waist as they continued moving with the music, a shiver going down her spine as his hands moved farther up her thinly-covered back. She was so unlike how he remembered her; then again, he was an intelligent enough man to realize that the Katerina Petrova he had once known was long dead. The woman she was now, though… She was entirely unknown, and yet so familiar. She was primal, powerful, carnal. He so wanted to indulge himself in her—and judging by her actions this evening, she wished for the same—but there was a delicate line here.

A line which must not be crossed.


	5. Chasing Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: ‘…There was a delicate line here. A line which must not be crossed.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, there is a violence warning for the beginning of this chapter. If you are triggered by this, please, skip down to the italics. You should be fine from there.

**December 4, 2010**

Katherine plunged her hand into the chest of the last member of the LaHaye coven before yanking it back out, a self-satisfied smirk appearing on her face at the squelch his heart made when it came with her. She nonchalantly dropped the organ on top of the fallen body, pulling the silk scarf off from around her neck with her clean hand. The lady wiped herself free of the residual blood before discarding the scarf on top of the heart, the fluttering piece of material a crowning glory to the massacre that had gone on in her cellar that night, just across the room from her precious wine collection. Elijah was at the backdoor, ordering his entourage of workers in body disposal, for they could not very well burn the bodies in her basement, now could they? It may draw unnecessary attention.

“Well, your annoyances have been taken care of.” Katherine sauntered over to the door where Elijah was standing. She snapped her fingers at the nearest minion of his, causing the young man to step back, intimidated. “You, run upstairs to my closet and fetch me my black Manolo boots. The short ones, not the tall pair. And hurry!”

Elijah chuckled. “So you have taken to ordering my assistants around, I see?”

“I have blood on my shoes, and I will not be ruining my floors upstairs to go fetch a new pair.” That’s what minions were for, after all: body disposal and shoe retrieval. When the young vampire had made his way back—surprisingly carrying the correct pair of shoes—Katherine took them from him, and smirked. “On all fours.” She demanded. When he complied, she placed her heel upon his back, using him as a footstool while she changed her shoes. It would not do to lean down, after all, and the few sparse chairs left in the cellar had all been stained with one type of unsavory matter or another.

The entire time, Elijah just stood there, looking on amusedly. When she was done he waved the boy off, not even commenting on what had transpired. “Be ready tomorrow morning at eight. We’re going to the horse races.” He gave Katerina a look. One of his family’s horses was racing tomorrow, and an occasion such as the evenings did require a celebration. There were no more blasted LaHayes’ to take a favorite city of his anymore, after all, and anyone who wished to do the same had been sufficiently warned by their example. Yes, tomorrow was going to be a good day.

-0-0-0-0-0-

**_November 6, 1489_ **

_“They wish to marry me off!” Katerina burst into her friend’s bedroom after being shown in by one of Evangeliya’s sisters’. “I am but six and ten, and they wish to marry me off!”_

_“Katerina, what on earth?” Darling Evangeliya with her blonde hair and green eyes stood from the chair by the window, where she had been mending a shawl._

_“Father wants to marry me to Dragomir Georgiev. It sounds as if it is nearly settled!” Katerina threw herself on her friend’s bed dramatically. “He is nearly thrice my age! And ugly! Plus, everyone knows how he carries on with the village whores.” The brunette complained petulantly._

_“He is very well-off, Katerina. He is the richest man in the area. You would be taken care of.” Evangeliya cautioned. Her optimism was maddening at times, even if she provided good counsel. However, at the moment, Katerina was not inclined to hear it._

_“He is older than my father, and he only likes me for my face. He may have money, but from what I know he has come about it in less than honorable ways at times, and I refuse to marry a dishonorable man. Character does count for something.”_

_“Surely your father would not make you marry him if you do not wish.” Evangeliya sighed, acknowledging her friend’s point in the matter. Marrying a dishonorable man was about as good as marrying a weak one. And, it was not as if she was wishing to be married to the man either. “Everyone knows you are his favorite child. Your opinion must account for something.”_

_“We thought the same about Darina, and look what happened to her.” Katerina gave her friend a look. The other childhood friend of their group, Darina, had been married off to a horrid brute of a man a fortnight after she turned five and ten, and not much had been heard of her since. “My father sounded quite settled on the matter. And my mother was overjoyed, of course. She kept going on about how it is ‘time for her to be settled’ and ‘how wild’ I am.”_

_“Well… What are you going to do?” Evangeliya looked at her friend worriedly. Katerina was known for doing impulsive things, and this was feeling like another situation which would get her in severe trouble._

_“I do not know, Evangeliya. I do not know.” Katerina’s brow furrowed and she set her jaw. “But I will not marry that man.”_

_Sometime later, Katerina left her friend’s home and rode off to clear her head some more. By now her absence would have been noted at home, and she needed to create a cover for why she left without revealing the fact that she was eavesdropping on her parent’s conversation. Then she had to figure out how to tell her parents that she did not wish to marry Dragomir Georgiev when they brought up the topic; most likely tonight, if she knew her parents._

_She managed to sneak in the house unnoticed, and crept to the bedroom she shared with her sister Anka, who was five years her junior. Planning to feign a headache so as to get out of the evening meal, Katerina sat by the window attempting to figure out a plan. She could not run away, for she had no money. Of course, she could always become a servant, but that was a ridiculous idea; besides, she was the daughter of a wealthy merchant who had no training in that sort of thing. No sensible person would hire her. She had been groomed for marriage her entire life—and yet, she had not been. Her father had educated her as he had his sons. She was more than capable of taking over his entire enterprise with only a few years or so more of training, and everyone in the house was aware of that. So what could she do to ensure she could spend the rest of her days at home…_

_A clamor from the yard roused Katerina out of her thoughts: Viktor, one of her good friends, as well a friend of her brothers’, was here. However, when she saw him, an idea formed in her mind. Everyone knew Viktor was infatuated with her, and there were many people in the village who suspected an attachment between them. This… This was risky, and ridiculously impulsive, but if she went through with this crazy idea… It may actually work. Of course, her reputation would be completely and utterly ruined in the process, but she could easily convince her father to send her away to a school or keep her at home; even a convent would be preferable to marrying that vile old man. However, if she did…seduce Viktor, and ended up with child, he would surely come forward and insist on marrying her. No, no, she had to take this the furthest she could. She could flirt with other men in front of him, making him think it was not just him she would…give herself…to. He would take that as a deep betrayal, and any seeds of doubt would be whisked from his mind. It would keep him from marrying her, and with her father unable to have someone to marry her to, she could stay at home happily and perfectly!_

_Yes, this was the best possible plan. It would cause everyone a great amount of trouble, but it was what was needed so that she would not have to marry that vile old man._

-0-0-0-0-0-

**December 27, 2010**

“You do realize I dislike being dragged off to the middle of God-knows-where Scotland with no warning whatsoever, right?” Katherine grumbled, motioning towards her room to their porter, who placed her small collection of bags in her part of the two-bedroom suite. Elijah had called her four hours previous to tell her to get packed for a trip, and to say that she was not very happy was an understatement.

“Why Katerina, I assumed you would have learned spontaneity over the past five centuries.”

“Spontaneity is one thing. Jetting me off to the middle of nowhere with only thirty minute’s notice is another. Not to mention I was asleep at the time.” She grumbled.  “When are we to meet your werewolf allies?”

“Their settlement is a fair distance from here. They have arranged for a lunch meeting, so I believe we need to be leaving here in roughly two hours.” Elijah said.

“Perfect.” She shoved her travel mug and purse in his hands. “I’m going to go nap. I’ll be up in an hour!” Katherine laughed at his expression as she slammed her bedroom door closed behind her.

Roughly two hours later the pair was speeding through the woods, looking stylish as ever as they attempted to avoid trees. Up ahead of her, Elijah stopped, and Katherine slowed herself down until she was beside him. “We’re here.” He said.

“If this is it, then I am seeing a distinct lack of werewolves.” She looked around at the trees. “Did you get us lost?”

He fixed her with a look. “I do not get lost, Katerina.” Elijah led her through another patch of trees and into a hidden clearing, where an obvious village had been established. “As you can clearly see.” She simply made an unimpressed expression in response, before slipping on what he recognized to be her ‘there are people to charm’ face. They were approached by a pair of younger werewolves, and he quickly explained their motives for being there, and asked to be taken to their leader. Katerina had let out a nearly inaudible laugh at that, muttering something about aliens.

They were quickly taken to meet the Head of the Clan, Alistair Sinclair. “Elijah Mikaelson.” The elderly werewolf had smiled warmly, grasping his hand in a firm handshake. “I have not seen you since I was a boy.”

“It has been many years, Alistair.” Elijah smiled. “May I introduce Katerina Petrova.”

“Lovely to meet you.” They shook hands, before all moved to take seats. “Miss Petrova, I assume you are the one investigating this warlock, Silas?”

Katerina nodded, going ahead with their agreed-upon cover story. It would not do for the world to be aware of this cure. “Yes, that would be me. I am indebted to a coven who believe they have a text of his, and I am investigating whether or not it is authentic. Elijah mentioned your clan may have some information.”

“I do not know how much help we can actually be, but one of my daughters keeps our histories. She may know where to begin.” Alistair said.

“That would be agreeable.” Elijah nodded, rising.

That evening, the vampire pair were back at their hotel. They had met with Alistair’s daughter, Elizabeth, but all she did was redirect them to her brother Lachlan—as well as his two very young children, whom had taken a liking to Katherine, surprisingly—whose wife had been a witch during her short lifetime; he apparently still had a few of her grimoires. Unfortunately, after a good three hours perusing through her grimoires, nothing other than the name of a warlock had come up, sending them on yet another trail.

“Yes, I did say Jean-Pierre Lamar. Yes, you bloody imbecile, I would like to know his location! Find it for me before I find you and rip your heart out of your worthless chest!” Katherine exploded into her cell phone. She gratefully accepted the tumbler of scotch Elijah held out to her, before downing half of it in one gulp. Her minions were idiots.

Elijah, on the other hand, was waiting on an email from one of the witches he was still on good terms with, hoping she might be able to hunt down this warlock. Lamar supposedly had done research on Silas, so if they could find him, they could possibly find the cure first. When his phone pinged and he read the content of the email, he nodded to Katerina, and she hung up without even giving an explanation.

“I assume your witch found him?” She finished the rest of the whiskey. “Thank god. My people could barely find their way out of a paper bag.” Setting her glass on the bar, she crossed her arms and turned to her partner in crime. “So, where does this Jean-Pierre Lamar live? I do hope it is somewhere civilized.”

“I hope you haven’t unpacked, Katerina, for it seems that other than a taste for research, Lamar enjoyed a life of hedonism.” Elijah smirked at seeing the location. “We’re heading to Las Vegas.”


	6. Tasting Blood and Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: “... We’re heading to Las Vegas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this fic is rated mature, but for those of you who wish to skip the adult content, tread carefully at the end of this chapter. It isn't anything too risque, but I don't advise reading it if like... Your parents are looking over your shoulder or something.

**_March 25, 1492_ **

_“Lord Elijah, where are we going?” Katerina laughed as she stumbled along in the dusky light. When Lord Elijah had said he had a surprise for her that evening, she had been expecting something simple, like a sweet, or a pretty card with her name decorated upon it. She had not expected to be blindfolded and led to somewhere that felt very far away from the castle. She did not fear the Lord Elijah—unlike she did his brother, the Lord Niklaus, no matter how charming the man was—which was very strange for her, considering she had merely been staying with the family for a week. She had not yet met their sister, the Lady Rebekah, but she was supposed to be arriving within a few days to meet her. It would be lovely to be the companion of a grand lady… Lord Elijah even seemed to think she and his sister might become friends one day, like they already had._

_“Patience, Katerina.” She could hear the laughter in his voice, even if she could not see his smile. “We are nearly there.”_

_“I am not a very patient woman, milord.” She said, cracking a smirk._

_“My dear, I am well aware of that.”_

_“Are you insinuating something?” Katerina asked as they came to a stop. Lord Elijah let go of her hand and walked behind her, nearly improperly close, making her heart jump in her chest._

_“Not at all, Katerina.” He said as he untied her blindfold. “Now, enjoy your surprise.”_

_The piece of cloth was taken away, and now visible was one of the most beautiful views of the countryside Katerina had seen. The hills were painted in shades of orange and purple in the twilight, and the clearing where they were standing was surrounded by flowering trees. The breeze was light and perfect, and it was a moment she felt she would always remember. “It’s lovely!” She smiled. “How did you know of this place? I have never seen one like it.”_

_“I often take walks to clear my head, and one morn I stumbled across this clearing.” He shrugged as they walked forwards a bit. “It is very beautiful, no?”_

_“It is, and a very lovely surprise. Thank you very much.” Katerina said. “You are a very good friend to me, my lord, and I greatly appreciate it.” She could barely meet his eyes for the look in them held something she had not seen before—something she was desperately drawn to._

_“You are unlike any woman of my acquaintance, Katerina. It would be impossible to not be your friend.” He said sincerely._

_Katerina was finding the words to reply, when all of a sudden the breeze picked up, whipping her hair and gown. The blossoms were whisked off of the trees surrounding them, flying about her like a shower of petals. Katerina laughed and twirled around, holding out her hand to Lord Elijah. “Come dance, milord!” She giggled._

_And he did, leading her in a dance amongst the flowers._

_-0-0-0-0-0-_

**December 31, 2010**

“How is it that it’s been a good fifty years since you’ve been to Vegas?” Katherine eyed Elijah over her shoulder by way of the vanity mirror as she applied lipstick. They had spent the last two days hunting down Jean-Pierre Lamar—who had turned out to be rather helpful despite his penchant for cheap liquor and gambling—and had a box full of information about Silas to show for their trouble. Said box had been shipped back to the London house ahead of them; one could never go wrong with personal couriers after all, and they did tend to be more reliable than international mail services. Even though the information was already sent back, it was New Year’s Eve, and Katherine and Elijah had chosen to take a day or two and enjoy the festivities.

“I merely have not had the time to make my way over to this part of the country.” Elijah shrugged, adjusting his tie before slipping on his suit jacket.

Katherine rolled her eyes and tucked away her lipstick, before slipping on her heels. “You’ve missed out. If anything, Sin City has just gotten better with every decade.”

“Sin City?” Something about the way Elijah said those words—his eyes trailing down the open back of her dress—sent a shiver down Katherine’s spine. “So that’s what they’re calling it now.”

“It’s what they’ve _been_ calling it.” Katherine said. “Though, you have no excuse for not making it over this way and indulging in a weekend of reckless hedonism. I know all about your house in Napa Valley.” She smirked when he raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I kept tabs on you too. You could really serve to lighten up, by the way. Stuffiness does not become your age.”

“You sound like my brother.” Elijah attempted not to laugh. Katerina really was very amusing.

“Kol, I hope. I do not know if I could bear being more like Klaus.” She sighed dramatically before rising off of the bench in front of the vanity. “Shall we go down now?” Elijah nodded and rose, offering her his arm.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Many hours later, both Elijah and Katherine had had more than their fill of drinks, for the alcohol kept wearing away by the minute thanks to their vampiric tolerance. They had also spent multiple hours engaging in the various activities the casino had to offer—as Katherine was apparently a whiz at poker they spent some time there, for compelling the win was simply not any fun—before moving to the rooftop, where a party awaited them.

Elijah had not been able to keep his eyes off of Katerina all evening—he had a predisposition for red, which she very well knew, and her dress was sinfully entrancing upon her form—and something about the freedom of Las Vegas had liberated him from the constraints of their past. His thoughts were racing through his mind uncensored, and the possibility of letting the woman he had been chasing for over half his lifetime simply go back to her own bedroom at the end of the night (or far worse, to another’s bed) was near unbearable. She had been teasing him all evening—for someone well-versed in the art of subtlety, she was excessively blatant—and his mind was nearly made up. He wanted, and dare he say he would?, have Katerina Petrova in his bed that night; may magic itself damn him if he did not keep her there for eternity.

When it had become time to actually ring in the New Year, Katherine and Elijah were on the rooftop of their hotel with a cache of other partygoers, champagne glasses filled. The countdown soon began, and then seconds later everyone was toasting and drinking under a shower of confetti and fireworks. Quicker than the eye could see, Katherine handed their champagne glasses off to the nearest waiter. “I am going to kiss you now.” She said, a smirk painted across her red lips. “I do hope that is alright.”

Elijah responded by grasping her waist and pulling her into him, before soundly kissing her in the way he had wanted to for decades. He felt her respond just as eagerly, their mouths molding together in a way that felt entirely familiar, and yet was not. She felt like fire and emotion, elegant and graceful, yet entirely dangerous.

Moments later they were zipping through the crowd at hyper-speed, damning the consequences. Neither could particularly care at that precise moment if they were outing the entire vampire nation to the world, as their thoughts were more along the lines of ‘Clothes off’. By the time they made it to the elevator, mere kissing was not enough to relieve five hundred years’ worth of unresolved sexual tension, and Katherine found herself pressed against the wall, one leg twining around his legs in an effort for more contact, her beaded dress around _her_ waist, as hands wandered and explored for the first time. They barely managed to keep everything semi-appropriate on the short walk to their double room, though to anyone they passed, what had gone on between them was very obvious. However, once they were alone, all bets were off.

Katherine turned and took control, shoving Elijah against the door as she kissed him, fumbling with his tie after she slid his jacket off his shoulders. “I appreciate the waistcoat,” She breathed as he placed feather-light kisses down her jawline. “But right now it’s in the way.”

“Your dress is irritating.” He countered, unhappy with the high neckline as he pulled pins out of her hair.

“Don’t,” Katherine winced when she heard fabric shredding and beads and sequins popping everywhere. “Rip it.”

“Oops.” Elijah took to her pulse-point, entirely unapologetic, winding a hand in her tousled hair, exposing her neck further.

“You’re buying me a new one.” She shoved him back briefly before kicking off her heels, which were the only things left to take off, considering her panties were probably on the floor of the elevator. He continued to undress in the process, unashamedly enjoying the sight in front of him.  “I mean it. That was Jovani.”

“Katerina,” Elijah smirked, picking her up, her legs going around his waist. “I’ll buy you three if you just stop talking.”  He kissed her as he did so, and she happily complied, running her hands through his hair as he walked them towards one of the bedrooms in their suite, teasing him as she nipped at his neck with her blunt human teeth. She could smell his blood—his ancient, rich, lifeblood—pulsing just underneath the skin. All it would take was one bite… “If you wish, you may do so.” He said, placing her on the bed, hovering over her, counteracting their usual height difference.

Katherine pulled back from her teasing at Elijah’s words, searching his face. Bloodsharing was…intimate between vampires. It was not like feeding on a human; in something like this, you could feel the other person’s soul when engaging in the act. It was an act of trust… Not to mention it was exceedingly pleasurable for both parties—especially during sex. Normally bloodsharing made her wary, but there was something in Elijah’s eyes, and his face, and his overall being that called out to her in a way no one had before. She flipped them over and leaned down, whispering in Elijah’s ear, “And you as well”, before extending her fangs, and biting down.

It was an unspoken agreement, said through kisses and caresses and unimaginable pleasure: time was standing still, that night. All the morning held was uncertainties, for outside their room, they had reputations and lives; messy, messy lives. But through the night, all through the night, they could be—just be—Katherine and Elijah, with no past holding them back. Perhaps in the morning, things would be fine. Perhaps they could work it out. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But, if all they got was one night—if they were relegated to a flirtatious acquaintance full of pursuing, heartbreak, and despair for another five hundred years—then they would keep forward through the night.


	7. All In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: ‘…they would keep forward through the night.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this will trigger anyone, but I wanted to play it safe... There's a brief, slightly derogatory, mention of sex workers near the middle of this chapter, and if that is going to hurt anyone, I just wanted to give you all a head's up. The last thing I want is for anyone to be triggered by my writing.

**January 14, 2011**

Kol walked in at the worst possible time, in Katherine’s opinion. She and Elijah were just getting to the good part—the part where clothes were shredded and littering the floor, and Elijah did that thing he knew she loved and the _really_ fun part began—when an indignant and not-entirely-manly shriek came from the doorway. She pulled away from Elijah, grumbling. How dare someone interrupt her post-research sex?

“My eyes!” Kol wailed, presumably dramatically, judging by how Elijah was reacting. She had not actually had much contact with this Original, but from what she had heard, he was already her second favorite. Then again, that did not take much…

“Cut the theatrics, Kol.” Elijah rolled his eyes before he flashed upstairs, and was back down a few seconds later, this time with a shirt on. He handed Katherine one of her flimsy robes to cover slightly more than what she had on—which was lingerie—and she donned it, ignoring Kol’s leering eyes. “What are you even doing here?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the free show,” He winked at Katherine, “but really, brother, I’m hurt. And scarred. I came to visit my _favorite_ sibling for a short time before I finally agree to Nik’s summons to our dreadful little hometown, and what do I find?” Kol paused, a glimmer in his eye. “You, my _dear_ brother, fucking the bane of our family’s existence.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m just Klaus’s bane, not anyone else’s, but thanks for the compliment.” Katherine retorted, sashaying to one of the couches in the room. Elijah took a seat beside her, while Kol sat opposite.

“We all know Rebekah is your favorite, Kol.” Elijah sighed. “What are you really doing here? You do have your own house in London, after all.”

“The house that you speak of is now a brothel.” Kol deadpanned, and Katherine could barely contain her laughter.

“I was unaware it was not already, due to the amount of women you paraded through there.” Elijah raised an eyebrow, internally smirking. Oh yes, he was thoroughly pleased with himself. This was better than the Beeswax Incident of 1804.

“No, Elijah. My house is a legitimate brothel. With cheap whores and rancid perfume, and this heinous Madame with a shrill voice and a miserable demeanor. I cannot reside in that place. It is one thing to stay there when the place is kept…up to standards. This, however, is ridiculous.” Kol said, apparently mortally offended. “I want to find who did this and slay them!”

“That may be very difficult brother, considering I set the place up, and I believe Niklaus has the daggers.” Elijah said, as calmly as one might describe what they had for breakfast that morning, while he toyed with one of Katherine’s curls. With that, Katherine could not help but laugh, and Kol seemed to become even more offended than ever. “Well, the place was just sitting there. It needed to generate revenue in some way, and I was getting annoyed by the former tenants.”

“That was my favorite house!” Kol complained.

“Your favorite house is the one in Polynesia or wherever that island is located. You hate England.”

The younger brother sighed. “I do. Too much rain. But that doesn’t mean you get to transform my property whenever you wish. Or eat my tenants, for that matter.” He turned his attention to Katherine. “Now, enough about me. What exactly are you doing with the fiery doppelganger?”

“I would think you figured that out already.” Katherine smiled sweetly. “And don’t compare me to the other ones.”

“That was a compliment, darling.” Kol laughed. “The first one of you was a raging whore that no one with any sense liked,” Here he shot his brother a pointed look, “and the latest is just…not my type. You’re easily my favorite, if only because prior to when I was daggered in the 1850’s, you managed to piss Nik off on a daily basis. It was very amusing.”

“And now I can die a happy woman, for I have been complimented by the great and mighty Kol.” Katherine swooned. “Elijah, I want a dress made of pink rose petals, and for everyone to sing Kum-ba-ya around my coffin before I am set to the sea.” She gave him an entirely sappy look, draping herself across his lap and looking up at him, one hand resting on her forehead as if taking a temperature. “Do not delay the plans, my darling, for now that my life’s mission has been fulfilled, I fear it may not be long before I go.”

Elijah looked between his brother and his lover, before sighing and rolling his eyes. It would be a miracle if he made it through Kol’s visit. The two of them together were going to drive him insane.

-0-0-0-0-0-

**_June 18, 1759_ **

_Katherine walked through the woods surrounding her cabin, enjoying the stillness her remote location provided. She was just outside the settlement of Montreal, and with a few carefully placed compulsions, the natives—and other villagers, for that matter—kept her location a secret. Not to mention the soldiers… This damn war was getting irritating. She had been unfortunate enough to run into one of the vampires set upon chasing her the last time she had been in the colonies—the vampire population in Boston was quite large—and had more or less retreated up north to hide out until the news of her alleged sighting had died out. She did not spend nearly two centuries without a daylight ring to be captured by Klaus now; no, that would simply not do._

_As wild as her current living space may be, living deep in the woods allowed Katherine to hear anything and anyone coming her way. Unfortunately, the only blood available to consume was of the animal variety, however distasteful it may be. Sadly, the only people who had happened to pass through her area were patrols of soldiers or natives, all of which were too large to eat or take out without drawing attention, so, animal blood it was._

_However, other than the safety benefits which came with her location, Katherine enjoyed the stillness. It was quiet. Peaceful. She could breathe—metaphorically—for the first time in a very long time._

_Hearing the crackle of leaves behind her, the branches snapping as someone made their presence known, Katherine froze. She could tell by the scent and lack of heartbeat that a vampire was behind her… This was no animal, and that seer who had babbled on and on about werewolves the previous fall was consumed with insanity. Werewolves did not exist—at least, that she had found any evidence of. That left a vampire, but how had they snuck up on her? She was very vigilant; this would have to be a much older vampire, which was not exactly something to be excited about. Old vampires tended to be fond of Klaus, and therefore not of her._

_Very carefully, Katherine turned around to face her follower._

_Later that evening, Katherine woke back up in her own bed, the darkness having fallen around her. It had been pleasant to take a walk in the woods that afternoon. The breeze had been perfect, and the summer this far north was always lovely. It had been especially nice to speak with her compan— No, she was just dreaming. She must have dreamed his addition to her walk that afternoon; her mind must have wished for it, no matter how_ stupid _entertaining thoughts like that were._ That _familiar face had certainly not been in the Canadian woods this morning. If he had been, she would be dead by now._

_No, he was just a dream, like always. Just a faint memory, whisked away on the wind._

_-0-0-0-0-0-_

**January 16, 2011**

“It’s not that I don’t approve of your incessant fucking all over the place,” Kol sighed, as he walked into yet another room, after yet another meeting, with yet another witch, where his brother and Katherine were screwing each other...yet again. “I would just rather not see that much of my brother. No matter what they say, incest is not best.” He said somewhat seriously. “However, you, Katherine, are more than welcome to stay naked.” Kol gave her a saucy wink.

“We really need to get better at locking the door.” Katherine remarked, pulling the sheet over her chest. “Though…this is your bedroom. Maybe we should just teach him to knock. Think they have obedience classes for bloodthirsty millennia-old vampires?”

“We could just kick him out.” Elijah commented dryly. “Besides, he has nothing to stand on. Remember 1778, brother?” He gave Kol a look.

Kol made a face. “Mmm… Wonderful year.”

“Not from what I remember of it.” The elder brother deadpanned.

“Oh, yes, there was that. Well, I suppose I can give the two of you a free pass in memoriam of that weekend.” The jokester of the family shrugged.

Katherine looked between the two brothers, very aware that she had missed something. However, it was likely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. “Did your witchy friend have any information on the Bennett ancestor?” At least Kol caught them actually _in_ the bedroom this time, as she could just hide under the covers. She had taken to stashing a robe in all of her and Elijah’s normal areas of the house, simply because… Well, too many Originals (certainly Elijah, and sadly Klaus, had seen Tatia naked, and women most likely bathed together in those times, so that added Rebekah to the list as well) had seen some variation of her nude body. She was not about to add another to that tally.

“As a matter of fact, Kitty Kat,” Kol smirked, shooting his brother a smug smile. “I believe we may have a lead.” It had been Elijah’s decision to keep their true intentions in the search for the cure from his brother—it was quite fortunate they were both very good liars. They had him convinced they were attempting to stop the cure from being taken by Klaus and Rebekah—which they sort of were, even if they just wanted to take it themselves—and this was very well, for Kol was very vocal about what he believed to be his siblings’ folly in waking Silas for a bloody cure. To be honest, the idea of waking such a powerful immortal being as Silas was rumored to be did freak Katherine out a bit, but what must be done will be done. She needed this cure, and nothing would stand in her way.


	8. Envy and Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: “…nothing would stand in her way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for my favorite chapter ever, there's a warning for adult content at the end of this chapter. Again, it's nothing too risque--and I consider it to be one of the best scenes I've ever written--but I would skim or skip that part if you're at work or something.

**January 25, 2011**

Katherine rolled over in the large bed, blinking away the harsh rays of sunlight. Needless to say, she was not a morning person. When she managed to not hit anything, she lifted her head from the veritable mountains of pillows she always slept with. Elijah was missing from his bed. Normally—or the few amount of times she had stayed over, which was… Actually more frequent than not, but that was a moot point—Elijah would be up hours before her, usually reading in bed when she woke up. However, he was absent this morning for some reason, which, while she probably should have been suspicious, she was not. It was not like they were _together_.

Katherine picked up a note left on top of her phone, which, of course, was written on fancy stationary in immaculate cursive. “Katerina, there were some errands which required my immediate attention. I will return around noon. --Elijah” She read aloud to the empty room, letting out a small laugh. “A simple text message would have sufficed.”

With a good two hours until Elijah was due to arrive back, Katherine set out to amuse herself, grabbing a thin robe to throw over her short nightdress, just so she did not surprise the mailman half-dressed again. The poor man’s eyes had nearly bugged out of his head, which had been amusing, but once of that was enough. Stalkers were not very enjoyable to have, after all.

After two cups of coffee, an interaction with a hairbrush, and an episode of her guilty pleasure show, _Gossip Girl_ , Katherine was bored once more. There was only so much to do on a bitterly cold morning, after all.

Back up in Elijah’s suite, she meandered around idly, amusing herself with the various trinkets and books around the shelves as the recently-stoked fireplace slowly warmed the room. Katherine found a fair amount of items Rebekah had probably sent him, for they just screamed ‘Weird Old Ugly Things Only a Sister Would Give’. There were more grimoires than she had expected in the small portion of his library he kept upstairs, though after further examination she saw they were Esther’s, so that explained quite a bit. However, there was one item which aroused Katherine’s suspicions: it was a little wooden box, with pretty carvings on the top, of flowers and animals and such, normally given to young ladies as a sign of affection, or as a gift of courtship.

Katherine knew exactly what the box was used for, as she herself had received many over the centuries, especially as a young girl in Bulgaria. But why exactly did Elijah—her very not-young-or-decidedly-female lover—have a lady’s courtship present? It certainly was not for her, after all.

“To my angel, Tatia.” Katherine read the inscription—written in runes, which she knew enough of to understand—on the inside lid, jealousy darkening her voice, to where she nearly spat out the other doppelganger’s name. “Tatia. He has a box that he gave _Tatia_.” Why... Why would he have something he gave her? Did he still love that woman? Rage and bitterness flooded her veins as Katherine wondered if there were more things of Tatia’s in this house. Elijah had told her this was his favorite residence after all… What if he kept more of _her_?

Katherine went on a jealous rampage throughout the townhouse, first checking Elijah’s closet, but when that proved to be useless, she made her way towards the attic. He would need to store his things someplace, and she knew the contents of his office -- there was nothing of _hers_ there. Upstairs, Katherine hit jackpot. In a small wooden crate that she practically had to rip the nailed-down lid off of were things of _hers_. Stacks and stacks of sketches, all signed by Klaus, men’s jewelry which must have been made by _her_ hand, trinkets, and more wooden carvings like the one downstairs had once been carefully placed within the box, but now were scattered around Katherine on the floor, a semi-circle of damning evidence. What was she supposed to do about this?

Downstairs, Elijah let himself in the front door after a morning of handling some affairs. One of the companies he had large stake in had called an emergency board meeting, and his presence had been immediately required, no matter how loath to leave the bed he was that morning. The house was more quiet than usual, but it was the butler’s day off, and the maids only came on the weekends, after all, so the silence was nothing unusual. Though, Katerina should have heard him come in… Unless she was watching that ridiculous television show about spoiled teenagers on her laptop again, which was very likely.

When Elijah checked first the living room, and then his rooms, without finding her, he knew something was off, especially considering her cellphone was still on the nightstand, and none of her clothes appeared to be missing. “Katerina?” He called out. There was no answer. However, the sound of a slow heartbeat—her heartbeat—could be faintly heard from the floor above him. Now, what on earth was she doing in the attic? There was nothing of interest up there, anyways, other than boxes of old mementoes.

“Katerina, what on earth are you doing up here?” He asked, walking through the open attic door. When he entered, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her robe riding up her thighs, hair loose and curly around her shoulders. She looked strikingly young, like a mask had been removed. Then, he noticed what she was surrounded by, and his heart sank.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, face eerily calm and cold. “Perhaps instead you could explain to me why you have a box full of my long-dead doppelganger’s things.”

-0-0-0-0-0-

**_Winter, 988_ **

_The new family moved into the village in the dead of winter. It was the worst time to be starting over—everyone knew that—but fate is not always kind, and on some occasions, relocation, even when inconvenient, was necessary._

_“Rebekah, you and I will go to greet the new family after morning chores are finished. I hear they have a daughter about your age.” Esther smiled from her spot at one end of the breakfast table, her children gathered all around her._

_“Yes, Mother.” Rebekah nodded. It was her sixteenth winter of life, and she was hoping her father would soon allow her to marry. She was practically the old maid of the village, anyways, with all of her friends already wives and mothers._

_“Take Elijah with you.” Mikael said gruffly. “It would do to have someone to assess the man of the home. See what he is made of, son.”_

_“As you wish, Father.” Elijah nodded before rising from the table with his mother and sister, off to their morning visit._

_Sometime later, the three had arrived at the home of the Petrov family, bearing a basket of food as a welcoming gift. The family seemed pleasant to get along with, though Ana Andonova was strangely evasive when she spoke of her infant son—a son she looked much too old to have born—who rested in a cradle in the main room. However, Elijah kept his observations to himself as he conversed with Petar Andonov, and Rebekah amused the baby. If only father would let her marry… It was not like his sister did not have her fair share of suitors. Then again, all of them, except for possibly Kol, who was approaching his nineteenth spring, were of the age to be settling down; still, Mikael denied even the thought of such things._

_“Mama, I am back from your errands!” A lovely girl, who looked to be a year or so younger than Rebekah, floated in the door, a basket on her arm. She was boisterous, her cheeks flushed with color; so alive in the dreary days of winter. When she took notice of the visitors, she paused, setting the basket down on a bench and coming to stand behind her father. “I apologize, I was unaware we had visitors.”_

_“This is my daughter, Tatia Petrova.” Petar introduced. “Tatia, meet Esther Bjornsdottir, wife of Mikael, and their children, Elijah and Rebekah.”_

_“It is a delight to meet you.” Tatia curtseyed, as did Rebekah, her eyes meeting Elijah’s._

_“Your little brother is quite lovely.” Rebekah smiled._

_“Mmm?” Tatia broke their eye contact, giving her mother a look which Elijah did not understand. “Oh yes, Jamous is such a darling little brother.”_

_“It is lovely to meet you, Tatia.” Elijah smiled, taking the hand which she held out for him to kiss. She really was a woman unlike any he had ever seen before._

_“Yes… I do believe it is lovely to meet you as well.” Tatia smiled, an incomprehensible look in her eyes—one which Elijah only wished to discover. She was only a young woman, and yet such a puzzle._

-0-0-0-0-0-

“Katerina,” Elijah started.

“Don’t speak.” She snapped, rising off of the floor, bringing one of the sketches with her. She was markedly shorter than him—more so than usual, at least—in the absence of her heels, and Katherine detested having to look up at him slightly, especially when she was royally irritated. “You know, I never realized how truly alike we appeared.” She laughed bitterly, studying the drawing. “Of course, I knew we looked alike—Elena and I are identical, after all—but for five hundred years I was the only one with my face to walk this earth. And though I had heard of the Petrova doppelganger when I was searching for answers as to why _I_ was the one chosen for your brother’s damned sacrifice ritual, and not some other girl, I had this image of the first doppelganger in my head, and she did not look truly like me. Then I met Elena, so any possibility of physical differences were ruled out, but she has the personality that one of my sisters’ possessed—that heart which is so big it’s sickening—and so though we appear alike, I have never really considered her to be just. Like. Me.” Katherine took a breath, rage flowing unchecked in her mind. “But Tatia…” She said the other woman’s name as if it were a curse upon her lips. “She looks just like I did at fifteen years old, down to the expression. She carries herself the way I used to.”

“She would have been sixteen when she died.” Elijah said. He was unsure where Katerina was going with this, though clearly she was angry. However, what had possessed her to go snooping in his attic and digging through sealed boxes? He did not give permission for her to do so. Then again, he never forbade it either.

Katherine snapped her head up, the portrait of the long-dead girl with flowers in her hair fluttering to the ground at her feet. “Is that how you see me? As a shadow of your beautiful, beloved Tatia? The next to come along, and the closest in temperament? Is that what I am? Because I am not some prize to be won.” Her voice grew more fuming with every question she asked her lover, yet otherwise, she maintained a perfect exterior.

“Katerina…” He warned her from going down this path, yet still… A part of Elijah was curious as to what she would say. How this affected her. She was a woman who spoke her mind, and yet never really expressed her true thoughts. They had something going on here, and, though it was selfish, Elijah was not going to stop her. He wanted—no, he _needed_ to hear what she had to say about Tatia. Tatia had been like a wall between them for so long and now… Maybe things would be different.

Katherine let a smirk cross her lips as she spoke her next words. “Tell me, do you wish I was her? Would you prefer it was _her_ in your bed at night, screaming your name?” She began to circle Elijah as she spoke. “She’s very pretty, you know. We all are, of course, but she seems to be the most sheltered out of us, with her innocent doe eyes, and darling smile. I bet she had all the boys in the village after her. God knows I certainly did.” Katherine laughed. She knew she was being cruel—oh so terribly cruel—but she meant to hit him where it hurt. Elijah was passive-aggressive on his best days, and she needed a reaction from him. A real reaction, not just some overly-formulated speech with flowery words. She needed affirmation that she was not a replacement, no matter how much she hated the desire. “I bet she told you how pure and untouched she was. How you were the only one for her, while she was fucking your brother behind your back. Or…were you the piece on the side? Tell me, did your strict moral code develop before or after you turned? It certainly did not manage to do me any good, I can tell you that.”

Finally, she managed to arouse a reaction from him. “I had a plan in place to save you, Katerina. I was not going to let you die.” Elijah scolded, though the reason why, he was not entirely sure of. Perhaps he felt the need to defend his younger self—his sometimes foolish younger self—against her harsh words. Maybe there were other reasons. But still, she was just speaking her mind; then again, brutal, unchecked, honesty was a concept they both were used to avoiding.

“And yet I saved myself. True, I was simply seeking death at the time, but I have saved myself time and time again.” She retorted. “That’s why you liked me so much then, am I right? Because I could be a stand-in for the girl you failed to save. With my braided hair and wide smile, I was probably the image of your _darling_ _Tatia_.” Katherine laughed cruelly as she continued to circle him. “I probably would have let you under my skirts then, looking like her, if you had only asked, _milord_.” She whispered the last word in Elijah’s ear, before continuing. It was like the words were flowing out of her without ceasing; like she had so much to say, so much she had kept bottled up, and now she could do nothing more to contain the fountain. “After all, I was no virgin back then. For, unless you consider carrying and bearing a daughter, and promptly having that sweet babe ripped from your arms, to be a requirement of purity, I was nothing close to one.” And there, she had done it. Katherine had revealed her biggest secret—the child she had never revealed to anyone else. “My father called me a filthy whore when I told him I was with child. I suppose he did not know it was my fate; that the women who bear this damned face are just doomed to be this way.” She stopped in front of Elijah, trailing her fingers delicately down his arm, her voice barely a whisper. “Is that why you like me so much? Because I’m a filthy wh—”

“Katherine.” He snapped, his tone severe. And, for once, she listened. He had never called her Katherine, preferring instead to use her given name. She stepped back, silent, waiting for him to make the next move. She had clearly pushed him beyond the breaking point. In a rage of anger and unresolved bitterness, it appeared she had accomplished the rarely seen: she unhinged Elijah Mikaelson.

Elijah had let her go throughout her entire speech. At first he had been irritated with her, and attempted to stop her and explain, but about a quarter of the way through, he realized Katerina was _jealous_. So, he simply let her continue. It was refreshing to hear what was actually on her mind for once, and not just the filtered version, not to mention she clearly needed to get whatever this was off her chest. He drew the line when she was about to call herself a whore, however, for she was anything but that. Now, at the end of her speech, he could not help but wonder what to do now that he had silenced her. He started to speak once, and then again, giving up both times. He could see the rage in her eyes—rage tinged with a hint of fear. She had revealed things to him that he assumed she had not told anyone before, just by her delivery. She had carried a _child_ while only a child herself.

_She considers herself to be a whore,_ he realized. The thought raced through his mind on repeat during the few seconds he kept her waiting for his response. And so, Elijah did the only thing he thought best: he kissed Katerina, his fingers tangling in those wild curls of hers. She fought him for control of the kiss, as she always did, but if they were going to do this, they were damn well going to do it his way. Katerina had said her piece, and now it was time to say his.

He moved her away from the mess on the floor and to the wall, where they were less likely to end up falling on the floor. Her little hums and whimpers as he made his way down her neck were satisfying, though the gasps and sighs which came out of his Katerina’s mouth after he unbuttoned the front of the scraps of fabric she called a nightgown and slipped them off of her shoulders, kissing his way down, were much more gratifying. “Katerina,” He whispered against her skin, punctuating every few kisses. “Katerina.”

“Elijah.” She breathed as she ran her hands down his head and neck, playing with the stiff fabric of his collar as he made his way down her body, playing her like that violin of his.

“Katerina.” He pressed a kiss on the curve of one of her hipbones before moving lower. Over the course of her speech, Katerina had stripped herself emotionally bare. She exposed her wounds, revealed her grievances, and spat things at him that he was sure she had never explained to another person upon this earth. He wanted to heal her wounds. Let her truly know there was no other. Let her see that she did not have to plaster on her armor every morning, because he liked her either way. He liked the girl with the wiry grace and the wisdom beyond her years, and he liked the bold and bloody woman she had become. He liked her wildness, and enjoyed her control. Kissing her was an attempt to seal those cracks in her soul; to mend the jagged edges she had presented to him. If he could soothe her pain, he would do so.

Katherine met Elijah’s eyes through half-opened lids, his touch and kiss branding her body as he, the great Original, was on his knees in front of her, respecting her, honoring her. It was an acknowledged fact that they were good in the bedroom together. Hell, half the things they did to each other were probably illegal in some countries, and Elijah had already had a door replaced because they…bypassed using the doorknob. But this… This was something different. This was reverent. Dare she say he was worshipping her? Each kiss Elijah placed on her body felt like a promise. Each time he whispered her name, it sounded like a vow. He was marking her as his. Acknowledging he was hers. Showing her there were no other women; that no ghosts clouded their bedchamber.

He knew who she was, fully and completely, something many had strived for, and none had achieved. Yet, here he was, handing the power to her. Katherine knew who he was; Elijah was a man who bowed to no one. He was unwavering and steadfast as the mountains, a man who possessed true power.

And here he was, on his knees before her.


	9. A Death In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: ‘And here he was, on his knees before her.’

**February 15, 2011**

Katerina had moved in suddenly, and without ceremony. Perhaps her moving in was simply impending in the shadows, for after the New Year she spent the majority of her nights at his townhouse. However, after they spent a week in the south of France at a chateau Katerina had found, she spent the first night back with him, and simply never left. Elijah had never considered himself to be a man who would enjoy living with someone—for even when he and his siblings resided together over the years, they never really _lived_ together—but that week and the days following were some of the most enjoyable in his memory. He enjoyed cohabitating with her; enjoyed waking up in the morning to her sleeping body beside his, and going to bed with her at night. He enjoyed living with Katerina Petrova, and it was not as much of a shock as it should possibly have been.

Elijah was not a man who let people in. He prided himself on being able to stay distanced from situations and people that his siblings, with their hotheaded tempers, were not able to. However, throughout the search for this cure—this blessed cure, which had brought them together once more—he discovered that, when he had allowed Katerina to see a portion of his soul back in 1492, she was a piece of him forevermore. That much was evidenced in the way he followed her for years, under the guise of chasing her, when all he was really doing was protecting her. Katerina Petrova was not a woman he could let go. Not when she held so much of him in her delicately firm grasp.

“Is that your phone ringing?” Katherine pulled back from Elijah, leaving him distinctly rumpled, and somewhat pouty. He was very adorable when pouty, however—no matter how much the man denied it, it was true—which often endeared her to putting him in that situation. She did dearly love to tease, after all. However… This time the phone was actually ringing.

“Ignore it. It is nearing midnight, and they can leave a message.” Elijah was more than aware of his Katerina’s games, which he let her play. Her games made her laugh, and a giggling Katerina in his bed was as much fun as a lusty Katerina. _Nearly_ as much, that is.

She shrugged and ran her fingers along his jawline as he made a move for her pulse-point again. “You have a thing for my neck.”

“And it is a very beautiful neck, моята любов (my love).” Elijah whispered the endearment into her ear, knowing how she melted whenever he spoke her native tongue… Which may be a reason why they would converse in it frequently, especially when he wanted something.

“You’re adorable.” Katherine laughed on of her rare genuine laughs. For an Original, Elijah was exceedingly sappy. “I like it.”

“So that’s why you keep me around, is it? Because you find me… _adorable_?” He flirted, punctuating her endearment with a note of mock-disgust as he pulled away to look at her.

“Among other things.” She bit her lip, giving him a saucy wink.

“I feel injured.”

“Women are praising me everywhere. I managed to wound your ego.”

“Yes, you have. It’s quite impossible, actually.”

“So that’s why you keep me around, is it?” She parroted his statement back to him. “Because I accomplished the impossible?”

“Or because you are the darlingest person I have ever met.” Elijah shot back, smirking at the look she gave him.

“Mmmm… Is that a word? It doesn’t sound like a word.” Katherine trailed her hand down his bare chest and beneath the sheets, before she rolled on top of him.

“Is that so? Then, _darling_ , what are you?”

“Fabulous.”

“Yes, but…not as much as you seem to believe.” Elijah deadpanned, his laughter giving his intentions away as he admired the view.

“Elegant, then.” Katherine rested her chin on her hands, eyeing him. She enjoyed the playful side of him… It was refreshing, when they got to act like normal people, instead of dealing with everything else which came with their identities.

“I have observed so, but not what I had in mind.”

“Ravishing.”

“Quite true, but, no.” Elijah laughed when her thoroughly-kissed lips turned down into a pout. “I believe the word exquisite fits you perfectly.”

Katherine smiled, and was about to reply, when she was cut off by his phone ringing, yet again. “That’s the third time that person’s called in half an hour… It may be important.” She propped herself up slightly better and reached over to his bedside table, checking who was calling. “It’s Klaus. You may want to answer it.” As she rolled back to her side of the bed, she deposited the ringing phone on his chest.

“Brother.” Elijah answered. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You certainly took long enough to answer the phone, Elijah.” Klaus grumbled over the line. Katherine looked over at her lover, his arms behind his head as he spoke to his brother, the both of them propped up against the pillows, and a devilish idea came into her head. She slinked back on top of Elijah, placing breathy kisses onto what she knew were his most sensitive spots.

“I have company.” Elijah managed to strangle out, shooting her an exasperated glare. Katherine simply laughed in response, thoroughly enjoying herself too much.

“So I can hear.” Klaus deadpanned.

“Niklaus, what is your purpose for calling me at…midnight?” Elijah glanced at the clock. He turned to Katerina, putting his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone. “If it was not entirely obvious, I may ask how the time flew so quickly.”

“I should hope you remember the past few hours.” She gave him an acerbic look, arching one immaculate eyebrow. “Otherwise I may have to just…restore your memory.” Katherine’s eyes glimmered.

“On second thought, my dear,” Elijah feigned innocent, barely containing laughter. “What were we doing?”

“If you could cease your flirting with whomever you decided to warm your bed with, brother,” Klaus interrupted, his voice hard. “Then I would be able to let you know that as of…roughly sixty minutes ago, our brother Kol is dead.”

-0-0-0-0-0-

**_August 29, 1864_ **

_Elijah sat in the chair at his desk, staring at the letter on his desk. It had been opened many hours prior—for it was evening by now, due to the fading light in the room—and he had already had his preliminary reaction to the entire ordeal. The few ornaments which he kept to adorn his desk and bookshelves were testament to that, if one considered their new status, broken on the floor._

_He was having what an aristocratic man may have called an existential crisis. Ordinary people would just call it grief._

_Katerina Petrova was dead. Had been dead for quite a few weeks, actually, if Rebekah’s letter was dated properly. Rebekah always dated her letters correctly._

_She was dead. The woman he had spent the past three hundred years chasing to the ends of the earth was… Dead. She had been dead for weeks, apparently, and he had not known it. He had not_ felt _it. She had passed from the earth and he had continued on through his days like they were normal. Like the foundation of his very world had not just disappeared. She had died and he had not known. She was dead. It was an impossible thought, really, for this was Katerina Petrova. She evaded death as a mere girl, and had continued to do so many, many times over the past three centuries. And now she was gone, from a church fire of all things._

_It was ironic Katerina died in a church; she never quite abandoned her Eastern Orthodox roots. For a supernatural being—from what he had observed over the time he spent chasing her, and even as a girl, during that short time they spent together in England—she appeared to be a habitually religious creature, unlike himself. He personally was raised on a mix of pagan belief systems and magic. It was simply… She was a godless being, who believed in God, and she died in a church._

_Life was a cruel, cruel, being._

_She was… She was his purpose. His reason. The past three centuries had been spent in pursuit of her. Every time she switched an identity or escaped a country, he was able to find her. He discovered her whilst she was hiding behind an impeccably crafted disguise, playing princess in the Ottoman courts. He followed her across those damnable Balkan Mountains on foot just as the snows began to melt when she was a mere infant vampire. He found her in the middle of the French-Canadian woods in the midst of a war, for god’s sake. He was with her, every time, even when she did her damn well best to avoid him. He had trekked the earth for her, and would drop everything to do it again. If only she were alive, he would never stop chasing her._

_He had seen her only three months before, alive and vibrant. She had been beautiful—oh so beautiful—but she was always so. It was more than her beauty, however; it was the life she exuded with every step and smile. She was full of energy and warmth, which were traits he could not remember himself possessing in far, far, too long. She was alive. She had been alive. She was not alive any longer._

_If only he was listened, and given into his pride, when she pleaded for him to give in that day. If only he had taken his chance. If only she had not died._

-0-0-0-0-0-

Elijah stiffened, unsure if he had heard correctly. To his left, Katherine sat up, staring at the phone in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Do not make me repeat it. My favorite pair of siblings in Mystic Falls completed the deed not an hour ago in the Gilbert kitchen, presumably to complete the Hunter’s tattoo.” The younger brother’s sentences were clipped, as if he were forcing out the words.

“And… Why have you not gone on a warpath of revenge by now? Or have you already done so?” There was a tone in Elijah’s voice which Katherine was unfamiliar with, which made her insides churn.

“If I was not currently stuck in the Gilbert living room I may have already completed that. However, Miss Bennett is far cleverer than I have ever given her credit for. Not to mention the whole bloody lot of them took off to Nova Scotia, as Rebekah informed me when I gave her the news.” Klaus added as an afterthought, “She ran off with them, of course, in order to get that damn cure.”

“So they’ve found it.” Katherine swore under her breath. “Damn.” She looked over at Elijah, who was frozen in place, a blank mask. Gently she pried the phone out of his hand before hanging up, cutting Klaus off mid-word.

Before she could blink, she was up against the wall, Elijah’s hands on her shoulders, that same look in his eyes as his gaze bored into hers. Katherine could feel his rage at the world—and his brother’s killers—his anger at his brother for daring to die, bubbling just beneath the surface. She raised one hand and caressed his cheek, and that was all it took for the ever-stoic man to break. Faltering, he braced one arm against the wall, still leaning over her, his other hand slipping to her upper arm. Elijah’s head fell to Katherine’s shoulder, his heavy breathing an indication of the emotional state he was in.

“It’s alright.” She whispered. “You don’t always have to be strong around me. You’re allowed to be human.”

“Katerina.” Elijah choked out, a hot mixture of shame and grief overwhelming him.

“It’s alright, my love.”

“We aren’t human, Katerina. We are supposed to be immortal.”

“Yet we are more human than the best of them.” Katherine sighed, taking her partner into her arms. “We are just as weak as the rest of them.”

“Niklaus would not lie about something such as this.” Elijah’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if it physically pained him to speak of his brother in the past tense. “Kol was my favorite of us all, and now he is dead.”

“Lean on me, my dear. You’re allowed to grieve.”


	10. In Which They Went Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Taste: “Lean on me, my dear. You’re allowed to grieve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hear we are, at the end... I hope you all enjoy this final chapter of The Taste of Blood and Wine! The sequel for this story, A Tree Called Life, is already completed on FF, but I will be doing some editing and posting in on here--the first couple of chapters will be up over this weekend. As it's complete, it should go up pretty quickly. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you all read the sequel! It's pretty popular over on FF, and features Klaroline and Kennett, in addition to Kalijah. Thanks again for reading, and enjoy this last chapter!

The weeks after Kol’s death were busy.

Twelve hours after Katherine and Elijah received the news, Katherine boarded a plane to Canada, where she was to track down the Salvatores and Company in order to get the cure. She was not happy about leaving Elijah so soon, but he insisted, and they both knew she needed to get the thing in order for them to even have a free life together.

Thirty-six hours in, Katherine had the cure in hand, and had just fed Jeremy Gilbert to Silas. To be honest, she had not exactly planned on getting rid of Baby Gilbert—using Professor What’s-His-Name had been her first choice, as his death would not have risked the wrath of the most annoying group of supernatural beings to ever walk the earth—but then she had heard Jeremy and Bonnie talking about how Kol died, and, well… Jeremy had always annoyed her anyways.

Thirty eight hours after the bombshell, Elijah got Katherine’s long-awaited call. It had been brief as she was about to board a plane—first to Iowa, then Wyoming, and down to Phoenix before finally backtracking to Pennsylvania, where a safehouse was set up—but he had been glad to hear from her, nevertheless. Without her, his house felt colder. She brought a warmth to his life, and even in this time of grief, the remnants of her around his house were a comfort. She had only packed the bare minimum when she left—anything she needed could be bought or compelled—and so her presence in his daily life still felt strong. He missed her; dear god, he missed her already.

A week later, Katherine was sick of compulsion. It was a pain in the ass to compel an entire town to think she was Kate Parrish, a long-time resident of Willoughby, and even more of a pain to go and do something as mundane as grocery shopping, which was nearly hell. She missed Elijah’s wonder of a cook more than she cared to admit; that woman could do heavenly things with veal. Not to mention being a “resident” now meant she had to be _nice_ to people when going out. It was too much work being amiable and darling all the time; she was feeling far too much like Caroline Forbes, with all this having to smile and being polite all the time. Katherine wanted to kill something. Or fuck someone. Unfortunately, an entire town perishing in a wave of blood would be a bit obvious. Maybe if there was an accidental town-wide gas leak though… Explosions were always lovely. And, of course, Elijah might be a bit irritated about the whole sleeping-with-someone-else part. He was a man who liked what was his to remain his, not that she had any problem with that. Katherine did not necessarily like to share, either. However, those were both moot points, even as this whole guarding-the-cure business was getting old. It was about time for Elijah to figure out how to arrange a meeting with his brother so she could get back to him, and they could be happy.

After those first few days, then weeks, then months, things grew more stressful for Katherine and Elijah. She took a trip to New Orleans to settle some business with a minion of hers in late March, and ended up continuing her stay to consult with some witches. Eventually she made her way back to Pennsylvania, but it wasn’t until after a quick weekend in New York, where she was finally able to pick up some decent shoes on 5th Avenue. The limitations Willoughby imposed upon her wardrobe were nearly ridiculous. There wasn’t a decent store for miles, and why go to Philadelphia for shopping when she could simply take a trip to Manhattan instead?

Across the Atlantic, Elijah was dealing with the headache of impertinent vampires. Vienna had always been one of his favorite cities to spend time in—he made a point to stop by every few years or so, when not lying in a coffin—but as of late his attention to the city had grown lax. As such, there were a few usurpers of whom he needed to either dispatch of or delegate to, whichever was easiest. Unfortunately the matter ended up taking a great deal more time than he would have wished, pushing his reunion with Katerina back unlike the last day of April.

-0-0-0-0-0-

It could be said that the story of Katherine and Elijah ended when she stepped on the plane to Canada. It also could be said their story ended the moment he discovered she killed Jeremy Gilbert, for at the time he did not know it had been the Gilberts who killed Kol, and not the Salvatores; because of this, he had been incensed she had killed someone else’s brother mere hours after watching him lose his. It was a blindsiding blow, for at the time, he wondered if her comforting him was just another one of the masks he had watched her slip on during their time together. Of his misinformation, he would be clued in months later, and would greatly regret the fact that he condemned Katherine for avenging his brother. It was more than his own family had done, that was for sure. Then again, Klaus could be partially to blame for that misstep, as he did not clarify exactly which set of siblings in Mystic Falls he detested the most, and the natural assumption was the Salvatore brothers.

However, neither of these are correct. Katherine and Elijah’s story ended on a Wednesday—six months after their story truly began—on May 11, 2011.

On that day, Elijah met Katherine in his sister’s home, his heart torn. On one side, there was his flesh and blood; what remained of his rapidly-dwindling family needed his assistance, and all which he considered himself to be as a man screamed to grab Rebekah and take the jet down to New Orleans in an attempt to salvage what remained of their dysfunctional family. However, his heart disagreed. He wanted to be with Katerina; to have her and love her and go back to their home in London—for it was now their home, and he would forever consider it to be as such—where they spent countless hours together plotting in his office and dancing in the parlor and making love across the entire house. He wanted to go back to debates over books and poetry and religion, to learning stories about her past, and telling her stories of his. He wanted more time in the chateau they visited, and to go to her penthouse in New York, of which she had gushed so much about. He wanted a life with her. And yet, he could not have one. His life was in New Orleans now; this was what must be.

Katherine did not expect to get dumped. Now, granted, she could have gone about the whole convincing-thing a little bit better—it probably wasn’t the best choice to call his brother a raving lunatic, no matter if he really was one or not—but still, she had not actually thought Elijah would _leave her_. She loved him, and he left. She had always loved him. She had cared for him as a mere child, and the affection had never really gone away. Now, granted, she had also spent the better part of her life running away from him, and he had scared her more than a little bit over the past three centuries, but that was to be expected. He was an Original. He was the oldest living vampire in the world; it was a little bit scary. Hell, if he so deigned to, Elijah could kill her wherever she stood. It would kill his emotions in the process, and he probably would stick himself in one of those creepy coffins afterwards, but she knew he could compartmentalize enough to rip her heart out of her chest if he was angered enough. She just did not expect him to do so in a metaphorical sense. He was gone, and what felt like for good. Now what was she supposed to do?

-0-0-0-0-0-

**_May 21, 1864_ **

_Katherine had finally managed to escape from the Salvatore Estate, and make her way down to the river. Of course, it was exceedingly improper for a_ delicate _young_ _lady such as herself to be wandering around the woods unchaperoned—if only they knew that the demons lurking in the woods were her all along—but propriety was to be damned right now._

_She had had a suspicion for years. If she was really being honest with herself, of which she prided herself on being, she had had more than a suspicion for some time. After all, one does not run into a…former acquaintance, who was supposed to hate her, that many times over the past three centuries, and be let go, merely by chance. And maybe he was simply tracking her for Klaus; maybe she_ had _been slowly going insane over the three hundred years of her life. However, a small part of Katherine could not help but hope she was wrong. Hope that maybe the man she once knew—the man with whom she had had exactly two interactions with since The Year of our Lord, fourteen ninety-two—was perhaps keeping the promise he once made to her. It was an insignificant promise, made on a night when the men of Klaus’s castle had returned from a hunt in a ruckus, crazy with the lust for blood and more, and she had gotten herself into a situation where she had desperately needed his rescue. It was a pathetic wish, she knew, but he had promised to protect her then, and perhaps… Perhaps he was the man of his word that she had once believed him to be._

_Katherine stopped, having heard a twig snap. She turned, skirts and immense petticoats rustling, but behind her there was nothing. “I know you are here!” She said to the woods. “I can hear you. I can feel your presence.” She turned back, facing her original direction. “Show yourself!” Katherine was beginning to feel as if she was going insane as she pushed the bonnet back from her head, feeling constricted by her clothing. What if she had been wrong? Was he not here? If not… Was this to be her life? Traveling from city to city, taking on a new identity every time, making up a new deceased ‘family’ to replace the one she lost far too long ago… Was this woman she plastered on every day to become the rest of her existence? Would she ever be able to break this deadly cycle she had gotten herself into; would she find happiness for just once? “Damn it, I said to show yourself! I know you are there.” She heard another twig snap, again to her back. Katherine whirled around once more, but again, nothing. “Stop being a coward! You’re here; I know it! You’ve always been with me; forever in the shadows, three arm’s lengths away. You let yourself get close twice, though those may have been accidents. Or maybe your will was giving out.” She gave an exasperated laugh, worrying the fan in her gloved hands, dearly wishing to just kick off her petticoats and run. Running was what she did best, after all. But right now, she needed answers to her never-ending questions. “Well, right now, my will has given out. I am tired; so dreadfully tired. I know you are here, just out of reach, like always. Simply…show yourself. Before I give up, once and for all.” Katherine pleaded, in a way she had not begged anyone before._

_“Miss Katherine?” A voice shouted from a distance away in the woods. Her heart sunk. She had been discovered._

_“Yes, Mister Salvatore?” Katherine slipped her haughty mask back into place as she picked her bonnet, playing her role before the young boy as he appeared in her line of sight. Thankfully he did not question her presence in the woods, or she would have had to resort to compulsion to cease his questions._

_“My father is back from his business, and I believe he has requested your company in a game of croquet.” Stefan said._

_“I would be honored.” She forced the sly smirk upon her face, really not feeling up to a game of croquet at all. “Tell me, Mister Salvatore, when will your brother be back from his business?”_

_“Quite soon, I believe, Miss Katherine.”_

_“How lovely. It is always so delightful to have the company of both yourself and your brother.” She replied as they walked up towards the manor._

_Elijah was left mere feet where she had just stood, cursing the young man’s existence. He had been so close to walking out to meet her, so close to taking her up on her plea, when they had been interrupted. He wanted to speak with her, to see what could happen. But she was right; he was a coward. Or, more correctly, he was a selfish man. Her carrying-on with the Salvatore boys angered him. It incensed him, to see her acting so like the woman he had thought she was nothing like. He knew her to be more of a woman than yet another girl who played with brothers. She was worth more than that, and here she was, proving him wrong. She was like a disease; something he could not get rid of, no matter how much he wished to do so, and yet what he clung to most desperately. It had been hell, watching her with the Salvatore boys these past few months. It was torture to see her fall for someone not worth her time, and a mere human, at that._

_No, this was too much: to see her playing and laughing with children. It was entirely selfish, and the moment he left town Elijah knew he would regret this decision, but he could not take it anymore. He would leave; he must leave. He could not look at her every day while the memory of her pleas ran through his mind continuously, if only for the weight his own guilt would bear upon him. He needed to get away from his damned birthplace and away from her, before he went insane. He could not take this anymore. Maybe… Rebekah had urged him to rejoin her and Niklaus in New Orleans for some time now. Perhaps after taking care of that business in London he could consider her request._

_And so, on that spring day in the year of 1864, Katherine Pierce and Elijah Mikaelson nearly touched before they went their separate ways._


End file.
